“Shit.”
Instead of leading me to the villa, the demon made a right to enter one of the other buildings I’d spied the night before.
A simple wooden door opened into a large room. Judging from the massive, map-strewn table in the center, this was mission control of Tristan’s operation. And speaking of control, Tristan stood at the head of the table bent over a large map of Italy. Nyx was by his side, eagerly listening as my father spoke to Horus.
When we entered, a few eyes strayed in our direction but were quickly averted to refocus on tasks. Tristan, however, kept his eyes on the map. Instead, it was Nyx who came over to guide us toward the lord and master.
She reached for me with a smile, but I shied away. I didn’t want her kindness muddying the waters. Not when I’d likely be betraying it so soon.
If Nyx noticed my coldness, she didn’t react. She simply left us at one side of the table and went to rejoin Tristan. We stood nearby long enough that I was starting to get twitchy. Apparently, no one interrupted Tristan Graecus until he was good and ready.
“… when Calyx gets back from hunting,” Tristan was saying to Horus.
I cleared my throat loudly. Tristan paused and shot me an annoyed look.
Horus’s eyes shifted to me, his expression clearly implying I’d made a breach of etiquette. “Yes, sir.” His response was so enthusiastic and dripping with respect I expected him to salute. As he rushed off to do Tristan’s bidding, my father finally turned to acknowledge us.
“Glad you finally decided to join us,” Tristan said. “Since we didn’t get a chance to discuss it last night after the rescue, I need you to debrief Nyx on how exactly you managed to let Cain kidnap you.”
Oh, he was good. Shame me for my lateness and then follow it up with a topic guaranteed to put me on the defensive. If my father knew me better—or at all—he’d have known I knew his games better than he did. I’d been raised by the master of power players—Lavinia Kane.
“If your spell to bind him had been better, Cain wouldn’t have had the chance to kidnap me or anyone else.”
All the air was sucked out of the room. Tristan’s people froze like statues. Giguhl’s gaze swiveled between Tristan and me, as if trying to figure out who would punch first.
Tristan, however, laughed. “I see the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
Adam walked in the door. He immediately saw all the tense postures and the anger hovering in the air like a bitter fog. He shot me a questioning look, but I was too busy glaring at my father.
“What the hell does that mean?” I demanded.
“You get that bitchy streak from your mother’s family.”
I slammed a hand down on the map. Tristan crossed his arms. His cool, unruffled demeanor made me see red. Once I was sure I had his attention, I spoke in a low, hard voice. “Do not presume to know me.”
Tristan stood up straighter. “You don’t like it? You’re free to leave.”
Godsdamn him. He knew I wouldn’t—couldn’t—leave.
“Actually,” he continued, “why are you here? Oh, that’s right.” He snapped his fingers. “Because you didn’t listen to me and got yourself captured by your enemy. You’re impetuous and stubborn, and one of these days it’s going to get you killed. You don’t want to get as good as you give?” He pointed to the door. “Good luck.”
The weight of several stares pushed down on my shoulders. My cheeks flamed with shame. He made it sound like I was some spoiled child.
Luckily, Adam cleared his throat and stepped in before I could prove him correct. “Maybe we need to take a deep breath here. We’re all on the same side.”
Tristan looked at Adam. “Who invited you into this discussion?”
A muscle in Adam’s jaw went rock hard.
“I invited him,” I said, barely containing my anger at his rudeness. “Look, you’re right. I made a mistake. I thought I could handle Cain but I couldn’t. But you know what? Neither could you.”
Tristan’s face hardened. I held up a hand to stall another flare-up.
“That’s why we need to band together. We’re clearly not getting anywhere separately. Maybe together we can prevail against our common enemy.”
A muscle worked in Tristan’s jaw. I had him and we both knew it.
“So drop the bullshit dictator routine and let’s get busy.”
He snorted. “Get busy doing what? My plan involved the Chosen.”
I raised a brow. “What makes you so sure I’m not her?”
“Let’s just say I have it on good authority.”
Giguhl snorted. “Oh, that’s convincing.”
Tristan raised a brow at me. “Do you always allow your minion to question his superiors?”
“Giguhl is a member of my team. He’s free to speak his mind.” I crossed my arms. “As for you being superior to him in any way? Not fucking likely.”
The demon puffed up.
My father hesitated, like he suspected I was fucking with him. “You treat your minion as an equal? Seriously?”
I crossed my arms. “As a heart attack.”
“Interesting.” His tone clearly indicated he was adding that to my list of faults.
“Whatever,” I said. “You were about to tell us who told you Maisie was the Chosen.”
“I have a source inside Lilith’s court.”
“Who?” Giguhl asked. He knew more about the power players in the demon world than anyone.
“I highly doubt a fifth-level Mischief demon would know a member of Lilith’s inner circle.”
The demon raised a scraggly black brow. “Try me.”
“Or better yet,” I said, “bring this mysterious source here so he can tell us.”
“She,” Tristan corrected. “And I don’t see why summoning her is necessary.”
“Actually, it’s a good idea,” Adam said. “After all, Maisie herself believed Sabina was the Chosen.”
“Predictions from Oracles are notoriously slippery,” Tristan said.
“And demons are notorious liars,” I countered. “No offense, G.”
The demon shrugged. “It’s true.”
I found it hard to believe I was arguing that I was the Chosen. After all, I’d used the same logic Tristan was throwing at me when Maisie and Rhea tried to convince me I was supposed to be the New Lilith. According to them, New Lilith was supposed to rise up and unite the dark races, ushering in an eternity of peace for everyone.
As nice as that sounded, I prefer free will over fate, and the very idea some path had been picked for me grated. However, back then, we hadn’t known that the Chosen could kill Cain. If that was true, I’d wear a crown and sash with “Chosen” written in gold glitter if that’s what it took to convince my father.
“Look, you said only the Chosen can kill Cain,” Adam argued. “Don’t you think it’s pretty important we’re absolutely sure it can’t be Sabina before you dismiss the only chance we have to kill him?”
Tristan sighed. “Fine, I’ll summon her. But only so you’ll drop this nonsense once and for all.”
A puff of purple smoke erupted in the circle of salt Tristan had cast. The scent of brimstone and a high-pitched whine filled the room.
“Tristy!”
At the same moment I recognized the voice, the smoke cleared, revealing a six-foot-tall golden skinned demon with a peacock’s tail.
My stomach pitched and rolled. “No fucking way.”
“Oh shit,” Adam breathed.
Both our gazes swiveled to Giguhl. He looked like he’d been sucker punched. “Valva?” he whispered.
The Vanity demon froze, her blue gaze locked with the Mischief’s. “Schmoopie?”
Giguhl whimpered.
“Keep it together, G,” I said.
A bead of sweat crept down Giguhl’s temple, just below his horn. “Wh-what is she doing here?” he said, his voice panicked.
Tristan frowned. “What do you mean? You asked me to summon my informant.”
Either Valva got tired of waiting or she couldn’t contain her excitement a second longer. Totally ignoring the salt circle, she leapt across the room and launched herself at Giguhl.
“Sugar lump!” She jumped up and wrapped her legs around Giguhl’s stiff frame. “I’ve missed you!”
My minion looked shell shocked as the Vanity demon rained kisses all over his face.
Adam and I exchanged a worried look.
“Red?” Giguhl whimpered. “Help.”
I almost refused. It was one thing to support my friend. It was something else entirely to try to peel an amorous Vanity demon—and her thrusting pelvis—away from the reluctant object of her affection. So instead, I took the middle road.
“Ahem! Valva?”
The smacking sound of her kisses filled up the room. It was so loud, everyone else averted their eyes from the display. Tristan’s arms were crossed and he glared at me like it was all my fault.
“What the hell is going on?” he demanded.
I held up a hand to tell him to hold his horses. My priority was saving Giguhl.
When the Vanity didn’t respond to my voice, I tapped her very hard on the shoulder. Some might call it a punch, but potayto, potahto.
She paused her kisses and turned her head, a fierce scowl on her face. “Oh. Sabina. It’s you.”
I executed a little wave. “Hey, V. Listen, do you think you could pull yourself away from sexually assaulting Giguhl long enough to explain what the fuck you’re doing here?”
She snorted. “I’m not assaulting him.”
“Giguhl?” I asked, keeping my eyes locked with Valva’s glare. “Do you want Valva to keep dry humping you?”
“Yes! No! I’m so confused!” he wailed.
I snapped my fingers and pointed at the demoness. “You, down.”
She opened her golden lips to respond, but a quiet command from Tristan shut her down. “Now, Valva.”